


Reprise

by ShippingsandDeamons



Category: RWBY
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-06-29 09:07:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShippingsandDeamons/pseuds/ShippingsandDeamons
Summary: Qrow has always been the one person Ozpin trusted above all else. He never thought anything would come of it.How different would the story be, if there were 4 Branwen's instead of 3?





	1. Musings

“Are you here to yell at me too?” Ozpin asked.

He didn’t sound sad or angry, or even apprehensive. No, the silver-haired young man sounded as resigned as he looked. Though he kept a welcoming smile on his face, it was worn and tattered with stress, his liquid amber eyes taking on a dull glassy look. He was starting to look about as old as he really was. Qrow winced. He’d almost forgotten that though the person standing before him was as old as him in body, he was technically his senior by centuries.

“I take it the others chewed you out?” He asked.

“Raven and Taiyang did, though Raven more so than Tai. Summer didn’t raise her voice, but she did have her part to say.” Ozpin replied lightly.

“Oh… well, I’m not here to yell at you.” Qrow replied.

How many times had Ozpin revealed the truth only for those same people to lash out at him? Had Galinda and James reacted as badly as the other members of STRQ? Did those two even know the full truth? He observed Ozpin for a moment, taking in how tired he looked un the thin guize he wore. It was hard to tell how affected he was by this, he was good at hiding himself from others in that regard. 

“Really, I just want to ask this; do you really think you can defeat Salem? You played her up to be pretty nasty earlier.”

“If I’m to be truly honest, I’m not sure.” Ozpin answered. “I’ve been fighting this secret was for so long, it feels like it’s always been like this. But I can only hope that victory is achievable, for I am no all-knowing god, just a simple man.”

The look in his eyes as he stared back at Qrow hollow down to the bone. He’d seen horrors so frightening nightmares couldn’t hope to even scratch the surface. And unlike the rest of them, he wasn’t just duty bound to fight, no. He was cursed to struggle and fight until the day he finally won, if that was even possible. They had the freedom to run away if they wanted, he had no such luxury. The man before him was no king, just a pawn with an even heavier weight attached to him. Maybe that’s why he was here, because he understood.

So, for now at least, he would place his trust in Ozpin.

“Fair enough, I’ll see you later.”

 

Ozpin watched Qrow leave. He felt strangely calm about their talk, not in the way the other members of STRQ had. They had left him with the numb calmness he acquired from living for so long; when emotions had grown distant and anger had grown to be a treat. Qrow hadn’t shouted his lungs out at him like Tai had, nor accused him to hell and back like Raven had, nor chide and scold him like Summer. This calmness was tranquil, a refreshing breeze after the head of summer’s worst.

How long had it been since someone didn’t yell at him over the truth? After so many years and so many different reincarnations, memories blurred together like paint. He stared at the face reflected back at him in his drink, collect and guarded. His face. His curse had stripped him of individuality, for when souls merged together they were no longer individuals. At one point he envied others for that reason, he who must live as an amalgamation of others and those who lived and died as a single identity. Much like with anger, envy had faded away, simply because time made it pointless. Now, at best he could feel annoyance, pleasure, and calmness. Happiness and sorrow were there too, but the situation had to be right to feel them.

How much longer did he have until Salem played her hand? The question was ever present in his mind. Time was a luxury good, one he was always keeping an eye on, one he rarely ever had a lot of. Hopefully STRQ could enjoy just a little more time as children, before everything must fall away.

Ozpin took a long, slow sip of his drink. He wasn’t sure how much trust he could place in STRQ, not after today. Qrow, maybe, but he was hesitant to trust Taiyang and Raven. Maybe with time, but there wasn’t a lot of that left. Sighing, he closed his eyes. Well, whatever the brothers threw him into next, he would endure it, he always had and he always would. 

“Now then, let’s see what horrors tomorrow bring.”


	2. Grieving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Behind ice he must hide his heart away. The world is cruel and his enemy cunning.

Ozpin stared at the lit candle resting on his desk as tears dribbled down his cheeks in slow succession. This was his ritual every time one of his own died, it was the only bit of mourning he could offer before the rest of the world’s demands dragged him away. Sorrow was one of his few remaining emotions, and one he worked hard to preserve despite all the loss he’d witnessed of the centuries. Guilt left a deep ache in his soul. Summer, another one of his mistakes; another failure to add. He should have realized there was more to the grimm report than was recorded. And now once more the Xiao Long family was torn apart, and this time the blame was all his own.

The night beyond his tower window was clear and the sky in full view in all it’s starry glory. It was a fitting night to mourn the loss of someone such as Summer Rose, not rain would ruin the setting, but because it reflected the type of person she was.

The headmaster of Beacon remained seated and still as the elevator doors opened. He simply wiped away his tears before the person could step off and see him. Qrow stared back at him, red eyes brighter from crying, and maybe even insomnia. He said nothing as the greying huntsman stomped over to him, the air around him brewing like a waiting storm. The candle’s flame flickered a bit as Qrow slammed his hands onto his desk. Ozpin looked up at him, careful to hide the signs of his own crying from the man.

Even if it painted him as heartless, he had to keep up the facade of composure. The world demanded it of him, and would joyfully tear him apart if he waved even the slightest. He spoke no protests as Qrow grabbed his collar forcefully, and dragged him up from his chair.

“You really are a piece of work, you know that?” Qrow snapped. “Here we all are grieving for a woman you sent off to die, and here you are not even shedding a single tear!”

He continued to say nothing. There was nothing to say.

“Is that all you have to say for yourself? Fucking nothing?!” Qrow snarled.

“And what would you have me says?” Ozpin asked quietly. “I misjudged the danger, and sent an innocent soul off to die, words alone cannot change that.”

“No, but you can at least be sorry!” Qrow responded. “You aren’t even crying, did she mean that little to you- do we mean that little to you?”

Opening kept his mouth shut, he didn’t trust himself to speak. Qrow glared at him, seeing only a man uncaring that twice now he’d ripped the same family apart with his actions. He shoved the silver-haired headmaster back into his chair then let out a frustrated hiss.

“Reaven was right, you are just a heartless monster after all.” The Huntsman said. “You don’t even care how many of us pawns die in your little game of war.”

So blinded by rage, the crimson-eyed huntsman didn’t notice that tears had once more begun to fall down Ozpin’s face. He stormed off in a seething rage, choosing to exit via the window instead of using the elevator. Ozpin remained in his chair, Qrow’s angry words echoing in his mind. He brought a hand to his face, confused. These tears weren’t out of loss, but out of pure sorrow. An empty feeling settled inside of him, gnawing at his soul. He knew it was better to keep everyone at arm's length, from the sake of everyone but himself. He was used to being the brunt of others frustration and anger, he was used to being alone. So why then, did this leave him feeling an emptiness he hadn’t felt in a long time?

 

It was many months before Qrow was willing to work as a proper huntsman again, and not just some freelancer. His first official job in over 3 months was to escort Ozpin to a remote village that was suffering from repeated grimm attacks. The reports made it seem like it was nothing a standard team couldn’t handle. But he’d heard from Glinda that recently Ozpin was going off to confirm the reports with his own eyes, ever since Summer’s death.

The tension between them so thick you’d probably need a chainsaw to cut through it. A very powerful chainsaw. Beacon’s headmaster followed behind him at a respectable distance of 6 feet or so, allowing him to not even have to look at the man. The silver-haired man seemed quieter, more reserved than when they’d last interacted before his outburst over Summer’s death. He shoved any empathy that information tried to bring up. In his mind, the man wasn’t worth it. He glanced behind himself on occasion just to make sure the other man was still behind him. Every time his ‘companion’ was still looking down, face and body posture unreadable blank, albeit his body was somewhat tense.

They arrived at the village, now desolate and empty, just before the sun began to set. The majority of the houses that still stood were either very heavily damaged and partly caved in, or still very damaged and looking ready to cave in at any moment. Of the houses that appeared stable enough, even those looked to have seen far better days.

Silently, the two sought out shelter. Both had no qualms about sleeping in ruins, or at least Qrow didn’t. Ozpin hadn’t had any qualms the last time he’d checked, and so far the headmaster didn’t voice any protests. They chose one of the better homes to sleep in for the night, they’d investigate in the morning. It was an easy enough task to clear out what had once been a living room to make room for their improve camp. Qrow lest in search of branches suitable for firewood while Ozpin remained to unpack their necessities.

The self-made quiet persisted even after Qrow returned. He worked on lighting a campfire as Ozpin pulled out rations to cook after the coming flame. He watched the silver-haired headmaster as he washed the excess salt from two portions of meat in some clean river water that had been gathered earlier. A polished skillet rested off to one side, awaiting use. His amber eyes listless and focused. Qrow ignored the way it made his heart rend.

When dinner was ready, he excepted his share with only a nod of thanks. It had been months since the last time he’d tasted Ozpin’s cooking, and it was just as good as the last time he’d eaten it. In between bites he noticed that the man in question was eating his food much, much slower. He wasn’t picking at it, but it was clear he didn’t have much of an appetite. Regardless, he finished it all and even cleaned the dishes with what water remained leftover.

“I’ll take the first watch.” Qrow said, not quite bolting, but getting away as soon as he could.

He willed himself not to look behind and see the look on Ozpin’s face as he all but ran away.


	3. Understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was it selfishness that made him hide himself from others?

He woke up on his own to the morning light. Panicking slightly. Qrow bolted up. He’d switched places with Ozpin last night after about 2 hours. If it was morning already, that meant the other man had stayed awake the remainder of the night. He ran to the stairs just in time to see the silver-haired headmaster descending them. He looked somewhat disheveled, not in clothing and hair, but in how weary his face and eyes looked, and how tense his shoulders were.

He regarded him with a nod before walking over to their packs and pulling out a portion of their rations for breakfast.

“You stayed up the rest of the night.” He said.

Ozpin didn’t reply, instead he grabbed the matches and began lighting a cooking fire. Sighing, Qrow grabbed the bucket and went to go fetch fresh water for the morning.

Breakfast passed in a similar manner to last night dinner, this time with Qrow shooting his companion more looks. He didn’t recall ever seeing Ozpin this withdrawn before, why hadn’t Glynda said anything? … Oh, right, he was angry at the man.

He began packing their things as Ozpin cleaned the dishes. When they were ready, the two set out to investigate the grimm attacks that had been happening. Outside of the major settlements. Remnant was a desolate place thanks to the grimm. Those monster made it hard for humans to settle down wherever they wanted, but it at least preserved nature. For all Qrow hated the grimm, he wasn't sure what the continents of Remnant would look like if humans were allowed to settle as they pleased. Maybe many places would end up like Vacuo. The thought was a dark one.

There were marks left by Beowulf and Ursus, and even some indications of nevermore attacks. This lined up with what had been reported. Qrow halted when he stumbled over something on the ground. Looking down at his feet, he stepped aside to get a better look as Ozpin ran up to see what he’d almost tripped over.

It was some sort of footprint, but not from anything he could name off the top of his head. It was about as long as an Ursus, and a little wider than the bear-shaped grimm. Unlike some of the other large grim, this one was uniquely shaped with three toe point out forward from the center, and two pointing backward. Looking around, he didn’t see any more of these odd tracks, but he did see Ozpin looking quite pale beside him. 

“We need to go. Now.” Ozpin said.

Qrow looked at him confused. “What- why?”

Before the other man could answer, something crashed through the wall beside them, forcing them both to flee down the street to avoid chunks of wall and other such debris. The grimm that emerged from the dust cloud was nothing he'd seen before. It was a chicken shaped thing with big black feathers, a crimson crest and beak, and the usual white material other grim had. The thing was at least twice as big as the houses around them.

“It’s a cockatrin, we need to run now!” Ozpin shouted.

“That sounds like a swell idea, I, second that notion!” Qrow replied.

He grabbed the hilt of his sword and pulled it free. Even if they were planning on running, there was no guarantee the thing was going to just let them run. His prediction was proven right when the cockatrin charged aster their retreating bodies, screeching like a wrath out a’ hell. It was faster than expected, closing the distance a little more with each stride that was more of a leap than a step. The lone footprint made more sense now.

Escape was looking less and less of an option. Qrow spun around to a halt, boots sliding against the ground until his momentum had bled away. He stared at the overgrown chicken and braced himself. The grimm’s scarlet eyes began to pulse, his fingers starting to feel numb at the tips. Before anything else could happen, he was tackled to the ground from behind. The cockatrin sailed over their heads before sliding across the earth, leaving deep rivets in its wake.

“Cockatrin’s can cause pseudo paralysis if you stare into their eyes.” Ozpin informed him.

The headmaster rose back up to his feet and pulled out his own weapon. He watched as the cane’s main body slip free. Ozpin held it like a rapier, poised and prepared to attack. He’d been dealing with the creatures of grimm for longer than the history books dated. Still, he was using a blunt, cylindrical rod to attack a monster. Qrow heaved himself back up just in time to see his companion dart over one of the grimm’s attacking wings.

He changed his weapon from sword mode to scythe mode, rocketing into the fray thanks to the recoil from one of his dust cartridges. He hacked into the monster as though it was an oversized rag doll, saving Ozpin from being whacked with one of its skinny legs. The silver-haired man nodded at him for a short second bevor diverting his attention back solely on the battle.

Qrow was able to slice one of the wings almost clean off with a side stroke, but before he could move found one of the grimm’s proportionally odd feet being planted into his sternum. He was sent rocketing backward with a force no lesser grimm was capable of. He was sent through the wall of a house, organs protesting as he came to a halt, resting on crumpled stone and splintered wood. Blackness began to seep into his vision, starting at the farthest corners as it made its way centerfold.

The last thing he was was Ozpin. The headmaster’s lips were moving, and if he concentrated he could just hear the man calling his name. Darkness quickly took hold of him, wrapping him up like a thick blanket.

 

Qrow came to the feeling of something resting on his chest. Through bleary, unfocused eyes, he saw Ozpin with his head on his chest, crying. There was no sobbing or heavy breathing or grimaced face, just simply tears falling down his face, but if that wasn’t crying, then what was?

“You’re awake,” Ozpin noted. “I was almost certain you were dead.

Qrow grimaced. He remembered getting frozen by the cockatrin, then getting slammed into a building before finally blacking out to the sight of Ozpin calling to him. He very quickly became aware of the pain in almost every part of his body thanks to the ordeal.

“You can cry?” He asked. Stupidly.

“Hmm.” His companion replied. “Sorrow is one of the few emotion’s I’ve done all in my power to keep. I must grieve when any under my care die.”

Qrow thought back to that night he’d snapped at Ozpin. Removing the red tint of anger, he could recall the signs of crying on the man.

“Why did you stop, then?”

“Because,” Ozpin replied as if it was simple. “The world will gladly tear me down at any moment of weakness, be it greaving over a lost comrade or simply weary over the weight of time. I’ve learned to hide it all from everyone.”

“Don’t you trust people? Not everyone is out to get you.”

“It isn’t a matter of trust. I simply can’t afford to be weak, not when I must constantly fight against Salem.” 

The brothers wouldn’t allow it. He had allowed Salem to live and beome what she is today, for that mistake- for that innocent crime he must endure what would break any other man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cockatrice based grimm would be an interesting concept, no?


End file.
